


Number 50

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-29
Updated: 2010-10-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 09:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh has a list and he intends to use it.





	Number 50

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Where the hell is that list? Damn it, where did I put it? I’ve got to find it, and fast. There’s no time to waste. Did she not mention this before today? I would have remembered if she mentioned it, it’s one of my greatest fears. I watch out for it, I plan for it. Damn it, where’s that list?

You know, if I didn’t have to hide it from her, I’d know where it is. Well, she’d know where it is, and she’d tell me. But no, I’m sitting here looking through drawers, files, folders, books… it could be anywhere.

“Yes Senator, I agree completely.” Shut the hell up. I’m looking for the list. I don’t have time to waste talking on the phone to you about this child healthcare nonsense. I’m searching my office for a very important piece of paper. 

Maybe she found it and destroyed it. No, that can’t be it. If she found it, she would have destroyed me, not it. I’ve had this list for three years; she’s never found it before, there’s no reason to think she has now.

Why don’t I just put it in the same place every time? “Yes Sir, we’re working on that Sir.” Back to mute. What was I talking about? The list, right. I can’t leave it in the same place every time. It has to stay mobile; it just has to. What if she knows the list exists? What if she’s in here looking for it every time I’m in senior staff? What if every time she’s “cleaning the tornado that is your office” she’s really looking for the list she knows but can’t prove exists? That’s why I have to move it every time I use it; it’s just not safe in one place.

Have I looked in that book? I guess I could keep it at home. “No Sir, we aren’t trying to placate you.” That would entail knowing what the hell you’re talking about. Where was I? Right, I can’t keep it at home because then it wouldn’t be here on days I need it. Like today.

Is this last minute, cause I usually know about these things in advance, it gives me more time to prepare. Yes! Here it is. “I’m sorry Sir, I have to go. There’s been a… security threat. Yes, yes, I’ll call you back tomorrow. Thank you Senator.” I found the list, I can’t talk to you right now.

Finally. Wait, I have to close the door. Good, she’s not at her desk; I have a little time. Close the other door…good. The list. I’ve got the list. The list is going to save the day. Shit! I’ve crossed everything out on the list except number 50. I can’t use number 50. I can’t, I’m not ready. She’s not ready. The government’s not ready. I just…. I can’t. Can I? I mean, I’m ready, really. I just said I’m not, because… well I’m scared shitless that if I use number 50, it won’t work. What if she doesn’t care about number 50?

So, now what? I spent 45 minutes looking for the damn list and now I can’t use it? And this doesn’t bode well for the future either; the need for this list is going to come up again. Well, unless I use number 50. No, not number 50. I can’t chance it. I’m going to need to add to the list. And how am I going to do that? It took me several scotch and sodas and nine hours to come up with these 50 things. I can’t come up with 50 more; I’m not smart enough.

50? There have been 50 times that I’ve had to use the list? Is she trying to set some sort of record? Is she trying to kill me? 

Ok, calm down Josh. You’re losing it here. Take a deep breath. You need a plan. You need to relax. Go lean against the wall for a minute or two. There, doesn’t that feel better? No, it doesn’t… get your ass back over to that list and figure out what to do.

What to do… what to do… what to do… I’m going to have to re-use something. I have no choice but to resort to reusing something on the list. I can do that, right? I mean, she won’t remember them all. Or will she? She’s the grudge holding type, she might. 

Number 9? That one worked well back in January 2000. Wait till she changes, get a cup of coffee, run into her… oops. Yeah, but… she drove today. She’d just run home and change. Number 24? That’s a solid choice. I’ve got a few friends down at the police station. I could arrange for her car to end up missing. It’d take her all night to figure out what happened to it. But, she was frantic last time, and how many times can that happen to a person in one lifetime. In her neighborhood granted, I could reuse it, but from the White House parking lot? No one’s going to steal a car from the White House parking lot.

Number 17? That won’t work, there’s not a vote today. Number 2? That one has worked well before. Really well, in fact. And see, had I known about this yesterday, I would’ve had plenty of prep time to fake an illness, but it’s 5:45pm, I can’t suddenly get sick and need her now. She’d see right through it. I will, however, circle number 2. I can use that one again in the future.

Number 41? Not with the President and Leo both out of the country. Nothing that urgent is going to come up to need her here all night. Again, if I’d had a few days to plan, I could have led up to a work emergency, but not with an hour’s notice. 

This is pointless. I can’t use any of these with such a short notice. Unless, of course, there was a real emergency, then I’d have no choice but to need her here. Where’s the surgeon general’s on-line chat when you need it? A well-timed nuclear threat? A sex scandal involving a high-ranking republican would be great! I’ll take just about anything; I’m desperate.

Something great! Now that might work. If I scored a major victory for our side, once more saving the day for the good guys, she’d go with me to celebrate. She’d cancel to be with me if I had a great victory, or if I had a major loss for that matter. Not that I would purposely lose. I’m just saying, if I did, it would work. Alas, there is nothing happening today that would warrant a celebration or a pity drink. I’m at a loss.

If only I had more time. And what’s up with that? Why was this such short notice? Wait a minute. Wait a damn minute. It wasn’t. It wasn’t short notice, was it? She came in today with an outfit. That means that she knew about this before she left for work this morning! So, why didn’t she tell me until 5:00? Why wouldn’t she mention it? Does she know? Does she know I have a list? Why else wouldn’t she tell me? No, wait. She doesn’t know.

How… how am I going to sabotage this date?

**********

Use it Josh. It’s time. It’s time to pull out number 50. I’ve patiently waited the two years since I found the list for you to use number 50, just use it.

Is it wrong for me to force his hand like this? I mean, really, is it manipulative? Yes, well… too damn bad. I’ve waited long enough. It’s time for number 50 and I’m going to have a date every damn day till he uses it.

To think, how many times have I let him sabotage them in other ways? Well, 49 to be exact. “Sorry Donna, I locked myself out of my house.” “Sorry Donna, I’m drunk.” “Sorry Donna, but my mom’s sick and I’m worried about her.” “Sorry Donna, but I heard music that reminded me of sirens.” That one was low, playing off my fears like that. “Sorry Donna, but the power went out and we have to stay late to make up the work.” How did he even manage that one? “Sorry Donna, but Ginger had her heart broken and needs a friend tonight.” She must’ve been hard up for cash that week.

And why have I waited? Why have I played along? Why have I let 49 sabotaged dates go by? Because I knew that eventually he’d have no choice but to use number 50, and that’s what I’m waiting for. Number 50.

Sure, I could have told him I saw the list. I could have killed him when I first found the list cleaning the tornado that is his office. But no, I wanted him to have time. I wanted him to come to me when he was ready. I didn’t want to rush him. Well, screw that! The time has come to push.

Now, I’m no idiot. I know he’s in there right now trying to figure out how to re-use one of the 49 items on that list. Luckily I thought of that ahead of time. That’s why there was a lack of notice. Had I told him yesterday about the date, he would have walked in here at 7am coughing. He would have scheduled a last minute meeting with some poor unsuspecting congressman and would’ve come back here having saved the day and wanting to celebrate. He would’ve found out my date's name and arranged for him to be held up somehow. No? You’re nuts. Of course he would. Don’t put it past him.

Come on Josh, number 50. Use number 50.

**********

I’m running out of options. I’m calling for help. Pick up the phone. “Hey, CJ. Anything going on? Any stories surfacing? Anything you might need help with? No? Nothing? Are you sure? No, thanks.”

Number 33? Oh, I hated number 33. Anything but number 33. How would I even do it? I’m such a pansy when it comes to pain. I could climb up to get something and fall off my chair, I guess. But come on… hurting myself? 

**********

I guess he could try number 33 again. He is very clumsy, it’s not like I could call him out. But he hates pain, I don’t think he’d use it unless… well, unless number 50 no longer applies. Then he might use number 33 again. But wait… if number 50 no longer applies, then he doesn’t need to sabotage the date. He’ll just let me go.

**********

Shit. It’s 6:15. She’s in the bathroom changing for the date with the gomer of the night. What am I going to do? If I knew his name, at least. Then I could have arranged for… I don’t know, something. A ticket, a false arrest, a problem with the IRS... something. Oh shut-up. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

**********

Yes, it’s the dress. Oh, shut-up. Desperate times call for desperate measures. He hasn’t seen this dress in two and half years, but I guarantee he’ll remember it. His tongue all but fell out of his mouth. My make-up’s good, my hair is perfect, I look… well, stunning. Here goes nothing.

“Ok, if you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go.”

**********

Is that? What the… I thought she was returning… oh my… I can’t breathe. Close your mouth Josh. Close it. Good. Now, take your eyes off her body. Come on. Look up, Josh, look up.

“Umm…”

**********

Don’t smile. Don’t. Do not smile at him while he’s looking at you like that. Damn, he wants me. Should I twirl around for him? Bend over and pick something up? No, that’s too Amy Gardner-ish. 

“Are you ok, Josh? You look…” like you want to rip this dress off my body. “Flustered.”

**********

Flustered? She’s lucky I haven’t shoved her against the door and ripped that dress off her body. I can’t believe she’s wearing that dress. And her eyes… I don’t know, but she looks… I can’t even think.

“Umm…” Oh no, not the voice.

**********

That’s two “umm’s” in a row, and now he’s squeaking. Have I gone overboard? He can’t use number 50 if he can’t speak. Snap out of it Josh.

“What, I couldn’t hear you?”

**********

She cannot go out in that dress. If she were wearing a potato sack maybe, but not in that dress. I can’t allow it. He won’t be able to take his eyes, or hands for that matter, off of her. If she goes out in that dress, the gomer of the night is going to want to have sex with her. What if she says yes? I haven’t always handed that well. Need an example: Cliff Calley.

“Umm… I was going to say…” What? What was I going to say? “I think I’m sick?”

**********

Wrong answer. And he asked it, he didn’t say it. What to do… I’ll just walk over to him, with a definite sway to my hips… yes, he obviously liked that. And I’ll just kiss his forehead… like that. Ooh, sharp intake of breath. You are no match for me, Lyman.

“You don’t have a fever.”

**********

She kissed my forehead! I can’t breathe; I’m lightheaded. I’m going to faint and then number 33 won’t be a fake. What do I do? There’s the list, opened on my desk. Scan it Josh; scan it quickly. 

“I think Ginger had a bad date last night. She might need you tonight.”

**********

Come on Josh, I won’t bite. Well, I might bite, if he asked me to. That was just wrong. There’s a line, and I just crossed it, didn’t I? Too damn bad.

“No, she’s out on a date tonight. She went out with Margaret, Bonnie, and Carol last night.”

**********

Come on Ginger! Work with me here. 

“There might be something important coming down the wire. I just talked to CJ a half hour ago.”

**********

Ok, I’m calling your bluff Joshua.

“Well, I just saw her in the bathroom a few minutes ago and she’s calling a full lid. Whatever it was must not have materialized. So…” I hook my thumb over my shoulder towards the door. “I’m just gonna take off for my date.”

I turn around and walk to the door. I put my hand on it and turn the knob. “Wait!”

“Yes,” I say, innocently, turning to look at him.

“You can’t go.”

“Why?” Number 50 Josh, number 50.

“The President…” I shake my head at him as he trails off. “Leo needs…” I shake my head again and turn to leave. If he’s not going to do it, I’m going to go out on this godforsaken date with the world’s biggest idiot.

**********

She’s leaving! “I love you!” I yell in a rushed voice that makes her stop dead in her tracks. By the time her body makes it the 180 degrees to face me, I’m around my desk and directly in front of her. “You can’t go because I love you.” 

And just like that, a huge smile comes across her face. And when I see her smile I relax and smile back, and then ever so gently she leans in and kisses me lightly. Obviously I’m not having that, so I proceed to grab her around the neck and kiss the hell out of her. 

It takes several minutes before we separate, and when we do, her hair is a mess, we’re both breathing heavily, and she’s against the closed door with my hand under her dress on her thigh. Not sure when that happened. Also, my tie is completely undone and in her hand and my hair is sticking up a thousand different directions. Also, my shirt is untucked. 

I’m just about to lean in for another mind-blowing kiss when she says, “Now that you’ve finally used number 50, you can go ahead and throw that list away.” Why am I not surprised?


End file.
